


Patience

by IAmANonnieMouse



Series: AELDWS 2019 [5]
Category: Inception (2010)
Genre: I only do this once every aeldws folks youve been warned, M/M, PWP
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-07
Updated: 2019-08-07
Packaged: 2020-08-11 10:21:47
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 495
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20152051
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/IAmANonnieMouse/pseuds/IAmANonnieMouse
Summary: Just a little longer.





	Patience

**Author's Note:**

> AELDWS Week 5  
Prompt: Oneiric  
Genre: PWP  
Word Count: Up to 500 words

_Patience,_ Arthur murmurs, words hot against Eames’ skin. _Just a little longer._

Eames shudders and presses up against Arthur’s hold. He knows he’s dreaming. He has no memory of how he got here, and the real Arthur would never be like this with him. Would never be with him.

_Arthur,_ he thinks or maybe breathes, eyes fluttering closed. He strains upwards again, testing the strength of Arthur’s grip. Fuck, if only this were real. He’d carry these bruises for days.

Arthur presses closer, fabric catching against Eames’ bare skin. Then his weight shifts, and he trails wet, messy kisses down Eames’ chest. Arthur moves slowly, leisurely. It’s an exquisite torture, so much sensation, but none of what Eames truly wants.

Eames opens his mouth to gasp, plead, moan, but Arthur bites down suddenly, turning his kiss into a steady suction that makes Eames’ back arch until he’s nearly floating off the bed.

Arthur chuckles, breath tickling his skin, and tightens his grip.

_What did I say?_ he asks, voice velvety soft. _Patience._

_Arthur,_ he tries. _Arthur, please._

A soft hiss of fabric, then the slide of silk over Eames’ eyes.

_No peeking._ Arthur presses a kiss to the blindfold. _Now, stay still._

Eames’ breath stutters as Arthur slides further down his body. _Stay still,_ he thinks, heart racing. _Stay still stay still stay—_

He cries out, hips instinctively thrusting up, closer to Arthur’s mouth. 

Arthur stops, waits until Eames settles again. He doesn’t speak, but Eames hears him anyway.

_What did I say?_

_Arthur,_ Eames moans. It’s all he knows. _Arthur._

Arthur takes mercy on him and moves again. Slowly, leisurely.

Eames gasps and pleads and moans, and everything around him is _Arthur Arthur Arthur._

*

Eames can’t help but stare in the morning. He’d woken up to soiled sheets and blissful memories, half-expecting to see bruises ringing his wrists. He dressed in a daze, and now, in the warehouse, he can’t help but stare.

Arthur, of course, notices.

He strides across the room, and Eames glances down at the papers scattered across his desk. He’s supposed to be reading them. He got as far as the letterhead on one.

“Problem?” Arthur asks, brisk as ever.

“No,” Eames says, managing not to sound unhinged. “There’s a lot of these, that’s all.”

Arthur chuckles, low and soft, and Eames abruptly remembers the feel of that same laugh against his skin.

He shifts in his chair, leans in towards the desk. “I should get back to these.” He waits for Arthur to move away.

Instead, Arthur moves towards him, placing his hands on the arms of Eames’ chair. His weight is a wall of heat against Eames’ back, and Eames can’t stop the tremble that runs through him as his rebellious mind flickers through last night’s dream.

Arthur leans in even closer, until his breath tickles the hairs on the back of Eames’ neck. “Patience,” he whispers, so low only Eames can hear him. “Just a little longer.”


End file.
